Taking advantage of the time when the other party went out to fetch hot water, Ed put down the biscuits and tea in his hands, stood up, took out a handkerchief from his pocket, put it on his hand and gently opened the files that Arthur left on the desk, so as not to leave any traces Fingerprints and oil stains.
He knew that there must be clues in this file related to him and this incident. The other party will definitely start an interrogation and record testimony next, and any bit of information may be crucial.
Suddenly, a bright metal reflection attracted Ed's attention, and he noticed a small handicraft next to the pen holder - a mechanical spider the size of a pocket watch.
The tail is equipped with a movement as precise and compact as the organ of a canary. Eight sets of transmission gear trains are connected to the folding limbs on both sides. The slender metal limbs equipped with hooks are slightly curled, as if they will slip into the shadows if not careful.
On the head of the torso of the copper spherical universal base is a dark yellow cat's eye stone, the cat's eye shining like the halo of the clear sky.
Gee, this thing is not cheap. Ed resisted the urge to pick it up and look at it carefully, and returned his energy to the file:
Witness Edgar Waikolo, the sole survivor of the "Subway Massacre". Well... luckily he's not a suspect. A mechanic dispatched from the Donald Brothers Home Machinery Repair Shop was listed as 21 years old in the employment contract, but his actual age was 17.
Can even this be found out? He frowned.
His childhood background is unknown, he was adopted in the Sisan Workhouse, and later adopted by the speculator Ludvik Waikolo. He studied at Pinkman Public School, but was forced to drop out and work after his adoptive father passed away.
Public school, I remember it was not cheap... It seems that the white crow cane was left to me by this adoptive father.
Family members: Adoptive father Ludwik Waikolo (here is stained by a large ink stain and cannot be distinguished)
Ink stain? How could there be such a low-level mistake in the file?
etc……
Ed suddenly turned his head and looked at the mechanical spider. Because in his peripheral vision, the linear axis of light of the cat's eye stone seemed to flicker, as if he blinked suddenly.
Is it an illusion?
He strained his ears to listen, but there were no footsteps in the corridor. He had really heard that the other party had left just now, and now there was no sound of coming back. So he continued to read the last paragraph:
When he was discovered, the witness had lost most of his vital signs, but showed amazing self-healing ability two hours later, and was suspected of entering a deep sleep state. After confirmation by a doctor, he was transferred to the East District Police Station of Yinwu City and awaited further observation and questioning.
This confirms some of my previous speculations. At least now I can be sure of who I am... The only good thing is that I have not been treated as a suspect.
Ed gently closed the file with the handkerchief and carefully put it back in place, making sure it looked like it had not been touched.
There were faint footsteps in the corridor. Ed did not sit back in his seat. Instead, he picked up the tea cup and biscuits and pretended to walk around the room, looking at the photos on the cork board with his eyes.
Broken limbs, bloodstains, corpses... these scenes that should be extremely bloody have a strange and strange feeling in the cold black and white photos. Soon Ed found himself in it - his head was soaked in a pool of blood, and his jaw was slightly open, as if he was still surprised.
"Long wait." The sound of Arthur pushing the door came from behind, the lid of the ceramic teapot was opened with a "ding", and boiling water was slowly poured into the pot with a steaming sound:
"Why don't you sit down and rest? Your body has just recovered."
Ed didn't turn around: "I'd better move a little bit so that my mind can be clearer. Are these photos of the crime scene?"
"Yeah, a total of 82 people were killed, but now it's 81."
"Alas..." An imperceptible sadness appeared on Ed's face, both for those who died and for himself who was still alive for the time being.
In three days, he had to find another character card. If you were dragged here by the police, the situation would be terrible.
"Miracles do not favor everyone, but I think it is always a good thing for one more person to live." Arthur said with some overtones, "Maybe you will be the key to solving this mystery. The tea is ready, you still want to use it Tea?"
"It's better not to delay the case. Is there anything you need me to do?" He turned around.
"Okay, next I need to record some testimonies. You just need to answer truthfully. Testimonies have sacred legal effect and are not a child's play."
Arthur put down the teapot, his cheerful expression gradually solidifying into seriousness. He sat back at his desk, carefully arranged his tie, unscrewed the ink storage pen, and asked seriously:
"Name?"
"Ed...I only remember this name."
"age?"
"Sorry, I don't remember..."
"It doesn't matter. Job, home address, education."
Ed closed his eyes and was silent for a moment: "I can't remember any of this."
"So..." The tip of the pen moved quickly across the paper, "Can you recall what happened on the pneumatic subway last night?"
"Let me think about it..." He raised his forehead and looked sideways, pretending to be thinking hard:
"I only vaguely remember that the pneumatic subway stopped, so I went to the control room. It was dark, but there were people inside, and then I was shot. That's all I can recall for the time being."
"What does the person who shot you look like? Can you recall it?"
"No, it's too dark in there for me to see."
"So, can you explain the phenomenon of rapid healing of head wounds? Have you been exposed to anything in the mysterious field recently?"
"I swear I don't know what happened. To be honest, I didn't even know I could wake up."
I saw Arthur neatly and quickly transcribing the conversation on the file. He screwed on the pen cap, put his hand on the table, and said in a relaxed tone:
"Okay, I guess that's almost it... Oh, and one last question."
Arthur's voice suddenly became a little lower, but his tone was still polite:
"Mr. Edgar Waikolo, why are you looking through this file while I'm away?"
What? !
A chill swam through his spinal cord like a poisonous snake, and Ed's pupils trembled, but his expression did not change.
Does he know I've seen the file?
I left no fingerprints or traces. This is not a special interrogation room, and there should be no reserved observation holes: the surrounding walls are adjacent to the windows on two sides and the corridor on one side. The only side that may be used for peeping is blocked by a cork board, and there are no suspicious holes.
Could it be...
Under Ed's gaze, the mechanical spider nimbly climbed up Arthur's rippled shirt and reached his shoulders. The dark golden opal stared at Ed, waiting for his answer.
That file is a trap.
The most dangerous thing is not that you peeked into the file, but that you provided wrong testimony. As long as the other party is willing, they can name themselves as suspects or even push them out as a scapegoat.
But fortunately, after the brief contact just now, Ed did not think that the other party was this kind of person.
After a while, Ed broke the silence:
"because I……,"
"What are you afraid of?"
"I don't know... when I woke up from the stool, I didn't know who I was or where I should go." He choked up as he spoke, "But I can guess what you will ask next. Regarding the case, I am worried that if I say something wrong, I will go to jail."
After saying that, Ed closed his eyes and quietly observed Arthur's expression through the slits of his eyes.
Arthur's expression was somewhat moved. He stood up, took two steps closer to Ed who was sitting, and put his hand on Ed's shoulder:
"Of course I want to believe you are innocent, Mr. Waikolo. You can imagine how difficult this experience is. Anyone would do the same thing in this situation."
"Thank you, you are a good man, officer..." Ed lowered his voice and thanked him in a slightly hoarse tone.
"I'm not a police officer, just call me Arthur. As long as you cooperate with the investigation, the Bureau of Investigation will protect your personal safety and freedom. After the case is over, I will help you adapt to your new life."
Fortunately, his judgment was correct. For people like Arthur, the best choice is to retreat in order to advance: answer your motives truthfully, show your vulnerable side at the right time, and add some improvisation to make the big problem smaller.
"Hey~ Arthur, the Bureau of Divine Investigation has sent a telegram."
The door opened, and a fat man with sweaty head was revealed. The police uniform he wore was a little too short, and it was obvious that he could no longer keep up with the speed of his expansion. In fact, just by leaning half of his body in, the space in the room became much narrower.
"Thanks, what does it say?" Arthur asked with a smile.
"Who knows, it's the cipher code of your Divine Bureau. You can see it yourself."
As he spoke, the fat policeman threw a long and slender roll of paper, and Ed recognized it as the punch strip of a printing telegraph machine. Arthur grabbed it from mid-air and started reading it like a tape measure - no paper and pen, no code book.
This is no ordinary skill. It requires a thorough knowledge of the code book and strong thinking ability.
Ed estimated in his mind that he could read plaintext codes without pen and paper at most. It would be impossible to memorize a set of encrypted codes that could be changed at any time.
"Excuse me, what department is the Divine Bureau?" Ed asked tentatively.
"Uh, should I say that?" The fat policeman glanced at Arthur who was lowering his head to read the punch strip.
Arthur did not raise his head: "It doesn't matter, I guess it's not a special secret, it's just that we never admit its existence in public."
"Okay then..." The fat policeman grabbed two biscuits from the biscuit jar with his fat and stubby fingers and stuffed them into his mouth. With a few quick chews, the biscuit evaporated. Then he said in an official tone:
"The Bureau of Investigation is the abbreviation of 'Bureau of Investigation of Mysterious Events'. As a national security agency specially established by His Majesty King Richard II, its main task is to publicly or covertly investigate mysterious forces or organizations that may threaten national security, and coordinate other departments to monitor them. , disposal or pursuit.”
Ed was speechless after hearing this, and felt more and more that his future was bleak. If the fat man hadn't lied to him, then the resources and intelligence that the Divine Bureau could mobilize would definitely be beyond his imagination, and he might even discover the secret of his resurrection.
Suddenly, Arthur, who was immersed in reading the letter, raised his head with a smile, with a hint of mystery on his lips:
"Mr. Waikolo, I'm afraid you'll have to come with me. Sergeant Mance, could you please call a carriage for me?"
…
